There was something about Hogwarts castle that Hermione found particularly welcoming. Blau Berg had always been chilly with it's large, vaulted corridors and airy towers. Avalon was frigid, because only a handful of the windows had glass and even the small rooms were on a scale that required a veritable bonfire to heat. Hogwarts, by contrast, was like Fort Stark. It was close and sturdy with paintings and tapestries cramming every spare stretch of wall, softening the stone walls and closing the reasonably large castle up until it felt cosy.

The people, too, added to the atmosphere. There was something about the sound of footsteps, chatter and laughter that made the castle seem more friendly; nothing like the deserted and pristine halls of Blau Berg when only the Grindelwalds had inhabited it.

Unfortunately, the Slytherins seemed to drag some of the negative, uptight atmosphere into the castle from their gloomy manors. Malfoy either didn't know of didn't care to respect the honour that the Gorlois family had won by right of the duel against his father. He made several snide comments about her lineage, the near derelict state of her castle and her mutant horse - presumably speaking of M'orvach rather than Katana, considering the Longma's immaculate pedigree.

'Her ballroom is bigger than your manor.' One of the sixth years scoffed, knocking into Malfoy with his shoulder. The blond shut up, sulking to the other end of the table with his little group of friends. Pansy Parkinson scowled at them, Hermione ignored her and glanced up at the staff table.

'Is that the Umbridge woman?' Theo confirmed, jerking his chin towards the far end of the table. Umbridge was taking a seat right at the end of the table, next to Snape. She was wearing pink again; a knitted cardigan with a puce, frilly collar and a fluffy woollen pencil skirt. Hermione hadn't thought she could look worse than she had at the ball.

'It's going to go one of two ways.' Hermione confirmed. 'She'll suck up to us like Fudge, or she'll hate me for employing the werewolves.'

Theo spent a couple of seconds observing the toad like woman whilst Hermione's eyes slid further along to the centre of the table. Dumbledore was already watching her, his face betraying the heavy occulumency that he was employing. In her first year the headmaster had attempted unsolicited legilimency on her and she wondered if he expected her to return the favour.

'Both.' Theo eventually decided. 'She's too power hungry to go against Fudge but she hates werewolves personally. She won't actively work against you but she'll do everything she can behind the scenes.'

He fell silent as the sorting began, clapping loudly every time a student was sorted, no matter the house. Across the hall, a tiny, excitable boy was draped in Hagrid's furry overcoat and began to pester Harry as soon as he was sorted into Gryffindor.

Dinner, like usual, consisted of heavy platters of roast beef that were good but couldn't quite compare to the spit roasts over the open fire that were the standard fare at Avalon. Hermione helped herself to Yorkshire puddings, dipping them in gravy and listening in to the conversation around them.

'Why the sudden fascination with Durmstrang?' Hermione muttered to Theo. She was overheard by Montague, who abruptly turned to include her in the conversation.

'The triwizard tournament!' He said it like it should mean something to her.

'They're organising it again?' Theo demanded, glancing up at the head table. Then he turned to Hermione to explain. 'It's a competition hosted between Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. They haven't run it in years because so many people died.'

'Duelling?' She queried, glancing over the students and wondering if any of them stood a chance of standing up to the the students she remembered from Durmstrang. Of course the Grindelwald trio had always been an exception; real combat forcing them far beyond the abilities of the average student, but the rest of the class had hardly been lambs.

'I think it varies.' Theo squinted, as if trying to remember some detail. 'You should compete though, if it is. Nobody else would stand a chance.'

Hermione declined with a laugh. She had no intention of competing in a petty school tournament that sounded dangerous and ill thought out.

'Mother was going to send me to Durmstrang.' Montague admitted. 'Great Aunt Dolohov went there, but father insisted that I go to Hogwarts like every respectable British heir.'

'I don't think we have much hope.' Hermione sniffed. 'Of course Durmstrang may have changed since Gellert attended but they had much better classes then. I think it says a lot about Dumbledore that there are only five additional subjects, of which two are fortune telling and one is so patronising that it may as well just be an attendance A.'

Montague guffawed meanly and several other Slytherins that overheard snickered as well.

'Umbridge is meant to be here to fix it.' The older witch glanced up at the head table. She didn't look particularly confident in the abilities of the junior undersecretary.

'Fix it into what, though?' A third year twisted in his seat, joining in on their conversation. 'Father says she's a glorified secretary, not a teacher.'

'You're right.' The sixth year witch pursed her lips. 'But she's a good bureaucrat and she'll lay the foundations for the next person.'

'She'll give Dumbledore some headaches, that's for sure.' Montague seemed rather pleased by the idea. 'What about you, Grindelwald? Any more plans to tie Dumbledore and the ministry into knots this year?'

'No!' Hermione widened her eyes innocently, earning several laughs.

Their conversation was forced to end as the food on their plate dissolved, leaving them sparkling clean. At the head of the hall, Dumbledore had stood up and everyone twisted to look at him. He began the usual announcements, reminding them not to go into the forbidden forest and that magic wasn't allowed in the halls... as if anyone actually paid attention to that one. He introduced Umbridge, who then proceeded to make a numbingly boring speech about what she planned to do at the school.

'Well, at least we know that we'll have another class to do homework in.' Theo muttered under his breath. Hermione wrinkled her nose.

'We're already half way through the seventh year curriculum anyway, according to Berg. Sirius was an auror before he went to Azkaban; I'll see if he can send us some spells to learn.'

'Can you tutor me too?' Montague begged, 'I've got OWLs this year.'

The High Priestess' answering shrug was neither positive or negative, but Umbridge had finished her speech and Dumbledore was continuing his announcement. As the headmaster announced that quidditch would be cancelled that year and introduced the tournament, Hermione tried to spot those who might have already known. The Ravenclaws seemed the most knowledgable unsurprisingly, as did the Slytherins. The Hufflepuffs generally looked intrigued, but as a house were less inclined to smugness and bragging, so it was difficult to tell which might have known and which were surprised. The Gryffindor table, however, seemed to be almost entirely surprised and the most excited.

'You're joking!' One of the Weasley twins said loudly. Several people laughed.

'Bet the champion will be a Gryffindor.' Montague grumbled. 'They're always Dumbledore's favourites.'

'Don't be thick. The champion is selected by an artefact.' The sixth year witch scoffed. 'If it chooses the best, it'll be Grindelwald.'

Hermione concealed her smile.

'Oh no, Gellert would be furious if I risked my life for a thousand galleons.'

Montague's eyes blew wide and the sixth year cackled.

'More furious than you standing up to an army of death eaters?' She asked.

'Absolutely.' Theo agreed for her. 'I mean, we all know that Hermione would win if she entered, so what's the point in taking the risk.'

'He'd have me locked in Nurmengard for the rest of my life where he could keep an eye on me.'

None of the others were brave enough to joke about Grindelwald's wrath, so the conversation petered out as Dumbledore finished explaining the age restriction - which excluded Hermione, Theo and Montague from entering anyway. That didn't stop them from placing bets on who would try to trick the system into letting them enter anyway.